


The Mind is an Inconvenient Thing

by Oort



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1791808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oort/pseuds/Oort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy's brain is entirely too active for its own good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mind is an Inconvenient Thing

_You could kiss her._

_Right now._

They were making their way up to the courtroom; some dispute about a wagon and a goat that had gotten bumped up to Regional for the sole reason that no one else had wanted to deal with the parties involved.  Roy was supposed to sit in to show them that their government cared about them, or some such rot.

_Nobody would ever know,_ the voice in his head continued, wheedling.  _C’mon._

“She would,” Roy pointed out.

“Sir?”

“Nothing.  Just talking to myself.”  Roy smiled in a way he hoped was disarming.  Riza stared back straight ahead. Of course no one could ever disarm his Lieutenant.

_It’s great when people try, though.  She’s got this wrist-grab move and sometimes this spin-kick thing and she gets this steely look and you have to admit that altogether it’s very attractive. You could try it right now—_

“She’d shoot me. In the _face._ ” He spoke under his breath so that she wouldn’t hear him; she glanced at him, somewhere between confused and exasperated, and then obviously decided to ignore him. 

He was grateful for that.  It wasn’t as if he could tell her what he was thinking.

_You could show her.  Look, there’s walls all around you. You could push her up into one of those and—_

“She wouldn’t let me.”

_Exactly, and then_ she’d _be the one pushing_ you _up into the wall._

Roy cursed, loud enough to draw Riza’s eye again.  He waved cheerily.  Not suspicious at all.  Nope. At least she’d been around him long enough to hopefully not be surprised by his odd behavior.

_Hey, you want to surprise her? Try—_

“Shut UP!”

A door to the left banged open, revealing a boy carrying a tall stack of boxes; he paled at the look on Roy’s face and hurried past them, the boxes rattling noisily with his footsteps. Riza’s hand, which had slid up to the small of her back, eased down to her side again.

“See, what did I tell you? Gun. Guns, plural, since it’s her.”

Silence.

Finally.  He needed his brain functioning if he was going to be dealing with self-important tradespeople.

_I wonder exactly where she keeps all those guns?  I wonder if she’s got one—_

Roy knocked his fist against his forehead and groaned.

“We’re here, Sir.”  Her voice seemed distant; Roy turned around and found her standing five paces behind him, in front of the carved double doors.  If he hadn’t already proven himself an idiot to her a hundred times over, he’d be wincing just about now.

“Right.  Thank you, Lieutenant. You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Sir?”  She was staring at him.  Riza Hawkeye _never_ took an unscheduled day off.

He coughed, stalling. “Well, you’ve been doing such a good job around here, and nothing’s likely to happen today anyway, so…”

Her eyebrows pulled together; she was worried now.  _Great._ “Are you feeling all right, Sir?”  She stepped toward him and put a hand on his shoulder, her other reaching up as if to feel the side of his neck.

“Yes!” He jerked away, making her forehead wrinkle even more. “Yes.  Fine.  Perfectly fine, Lieutenant.”  He tugged at the collar of his jacket. “Ahem. Just…go back to the office, then.  No need to hang around here.”

Her nostrils flared: oh, he was going to be in for it when he came back.  But that was not the important problem right now.  Right now he had to get a door and hopefully the rest of the building between himself and his Lieutenant, because otherwise he was going to say something we was really going to regret.

“Very well, Sir.” Oh, she did _not_ approve.  He was going to get that tone from her for the rest of the day, and he was going to _deserve_ it, the way he’d been thinking.

_…quite a_ commanding _tone it is, isn’t it._   

His inner voice should not be able to sound that sly.

She was speaking to him.  She was speaking to him, and he had better listen, because he was already in deep, deep trouble—

“Your collar’s crooked, Sir.” 

“Could you fix it for me?” He blurted; she paused, her lips parting as she looked up at him.  His breath was frozen in his chest, his hands going sweaty inside his gloves, and he was _not_ a fourteen year old at his first dance, dammit, he was an _officer of the military._

“Fix it yourself.  Sir.”   She saluted crisply and turned on her heel. Roy returned the salute in a daze. He watched her as she strode off down the corridor, all the way until she disappeared around the corner ; then he slumped back against the door, shaking and wishing very much for a handkerchief to wipe his forehead with.

_You’re hopeless._   The voice sounded exasperated.

“Serves you right,” he muttered, smoothed out his jacket, and turned to push open the door.  “Gentlemen?  Let’s get this started.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Royai Week 2014 Day Five prompt ("Conspiracy"). Posting the fills all together was annoying me because I didn't finish the week, so I'm posting them separately.


End file.
